


time follows you and fades (why are you getting farther away?)

by jeondekus



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, M/M, Post-Advent Children (Compilation of FFVII)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:42:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26693935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeondekus/pseuds/jeondekus
Summary: When he stands there, unmoving and captivated, Sephiroth saunters toward him, Masamune disappearing from his hand. With the same hand, he reaches down and caresses Cloud’s cheek, cradling it with a firmness like he’s scared the other will slip through his hands and disappear a second time.“Mine,” he purrs.And Cloud, with no influence or strings attached, responds, “Yours.”
Relationships: Sephiroth/Cloud Strife
Comments: 4
Kudos: 200





	time follows you and fades (why are you getting farther away?)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mayuaka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mayuaka/gifts).



* * *

When Cloud dies, he has no regrets or fears. He is at peace.

In hindsight, he could have dodged the fatal blow from Masamune, but for some reason his limbs grow heavy in that moment and leave him at a stand still. He could technically still get up and fight, but there are no visions of Zack or Aerith encouraging him to do so. There is no adrenaline coursing through his veins, fuelling him to push through the pain so that he can return to Tifa and Marlene and Denzel and everyone else once more. Despite everything he has to live for, all he wants to do at the moment is lay down and let the wind sweep him away.

As his eyelids flutter shut, the world around him disappears and is replaced by memories that feel so far away. His life plays like a movie being projected onto his eyelids, and he watches as he hides his pain of being rejected from SOLDIER, as Nibelheim goes up in flames, as Zack dies, as he blows up reactors with Avalanche, as Aerith dies, and as he fights Sephiroth endlessly. For the first time ever, there are no emotions associated with any of these memories—no melancholy or rage, no happiness or remorse. There is only nostalgia, and a lingering feeling of accomplishment as he feels himself unravel, thread by meticulous thread.

He knows that if he weren’t meant to die here, something would ignite his spirit and kindle his flickering ember into a flame that would consume and burn his mortal enemy once again. But he is meant to die here, and he is fine doing so, because he knows that Tifa has the comfort of everyone in Avalanche to help her move past his death, and because he knows that Marlene and Denzel are in good hands. Shinra is ready to make reparations for all that they’ve done, and the world is slowly starting to heal. Cloud has done everything he can at this point, and is more than willing to be claimed by Gaia when he feels most fulfilled.

Before he goes, though, there is one more thing he would like to do.

Slowly, Cloud peels open his eyes and squints against the harsh glare of the sun (had it always been that bright?). He’s not even sure at what point Sephiroth had moved him so his head is resting in his lap, but Cloud doesn’t particularly mind. As he peers up at Sephiroth, he takes in his green, cat-like eyes one more time, full of longing and possessiveness and, if he didn't know any better, concern.

Cloud takes in a deep breath. The air is like acid in his lungs and he coughs, blood gurgling in his throat. He’s down to his last thread, but—

_Isn’t it time you did the forgiving?_

—he has to do this.

“I—” Cloud chokes on blood and coughs it up, leaning to the side to spit it out. When he rolls onto his back again, he stares deep into Sephiroth’s eyes, and declares, “I forgive you. There was not a thing in this world I didn’t cherish, and you were no exception to that.”

_Are sins ever forgiven?_

_Yes,_ Cloud answers as his eyes slip shut, and he fades away into nothingness.

* * *

After Cloud dies, he does not return to the lifestream, to Gaia. He does not reunite with Aerith and Zack like he was expecting to.

Instead, there is an endless expanse of darkness for years and years, until one day everything starts to brighten until the light around him is so blinding that he has to shut his eyes and cover them with his hands. He stays like that for so long that he doesn’t even realize someone has been calling his name until a heavy hand lands on his shoulder.

“Cloud, are you okay?”

His eyes snap open at the voice. He pulls his hands (had they always been this small?) away from his face and looks up, eyes widening in shock.

“Barret?” He asks in disbelief, and is further taken aback by the pitch of his voice. 

Barret furrows his brows and looks over his shoulder at someone else. “I think the kid hit his head, he’s acting weird.”

“Cloud, are you alright?” A person he doesn’t recognize steps into view. “You collapsed suddenly in the middle of training. Have you been sleeping enough?”

In a sudden moment of clarity, everything comes rushing back to him: his name is Cloud, he’s twelve years old, and he’s the only son of the king’s personal guard. He is being trained to be the best knight the kingdom has ever seen.

In short, Cloud Strife was reborn into a different universe, with a different purpose.

“I’m fine,” he replies, trying not to wince at the sound of his voice. “I didn’t sleep very well last night, so that might have something to do with it.”

“We’ll call your practice off for today, then. Next time you’re not feeling well, don’t hesitate to let us know.”

“Right. Thank you, sir.” Cloud picks up his sword and heads out of the training room, head aching from the rush of remembering.

* * *

Cloud is sixteen when his purpose is revealed to him. The neighboring kingdom has just declared war, and Cloud will be the one leading their best men into battle.

The king tells him that he’s like nothing he’s ever seen before, a force that could clear the battlefield by himself. Cloud’s trainers pride themselves for being the reason he is as good at combat as he is, but only he knows the truth. The turning point had been when Cloud regained all his memories at twelve, including the muscle memory of dodging and countering Sephiroth’s attacks. Cloud is the best because, at one point, he couldn’t afford to be anything less.

* * *

Cloud is eighteen when he becomes the prodigious war hero his former enemy was once considered to be. His enemies raise their white flag and cry his name in fear and beg for mercy while his men cheer his name with adoration and praise.

Being the hero again is nice, he supposes, but it’s nothing special. While it’s true that no one could have the fighting style and skill that Cloud possesses, it’s also true that anyone could become a war hero that leads their kingdom to victory. There is nothing truly _unique_ about his new life, and anything that does separate him from the people around him is simply a product of his past life. Here, he isn’t understood in the same way that Tifa and the other members of Avalanche understood him. Here, he isn’t protected in the same way Zack protected him. Here, he isn’t wanted in the same way Sephiroth wanted him.

Even so, Cloud works with what he has and appreciates the people that this life has brought him. Dejectedly, he accepts that it isn’t the same, and that it never will be.

* * *

Cloud is twenty-one when he sees Sephiroth again.

He’s had nothing to do since the war ended, so he’s quick to take up the king’s offer on visiting a border kingdom for peace negotiations. He has no real reason to be there besides guarding the king, but he’s willing to do anything to get out of the castle. 

It’s jarring, really, when he’s approached by King Genesis, who has Sephiroth at his side. He’s even more bewildered when Sephiroth introduces himself to Cloud, curt and formal and a far cry from the monster he remembers. What throws him off the most, though, are the crystal blue eyes that have replaced the green ones he gazed into when he died. 

It’s unnerving (and, dare he say, disappointing) to see a Sephiroth that doesn’t know him and doesn’t even seem to have an interest in him. It’s so disorienting, in fact, that he has to excuse himself from the negotiations several times to calm himself down and convince himself that this isn’t a trick, this isn’t _his_ Sephiroth, and that nothing bad is going to happen. The king will not die at Sephiroth’s hands, and the palace won’t go up in flames. This isn’t his universe. Things aren’t the same here.

For some reason, though, he struggles to grasp all of these truths, more so than he did when he trained with Barret the first few times. It’s almost as though he’s in denial— but why would he be? He should be grateful it isn’t his Sephiroth. He should be grateful that there is no Shinra or Jenova here, no all-powerful god hellbent on destroying the world. He should be grateful that there is no one who craves him in the same sick, twisted way. 

(But wouldn’t it be nice to be the only person in the world someone wants again?)

* * *

Cloud decides not to go with the king on any diplomatic visits anymore. After the encounter with not-Sephiroth, he’s decided that it would be best not to put himself through the potential emotional turmoil of seeing a not-Tifa or a not-Zack. He’s not sure he can suffer through something like that again.

So he spends his days in the castle, training and raising chocobos and doing whatever he can to keep himself occupied and useful.

* * *

Cloud is twenty-seven when something interesting is finally thrown his way.

It’s just a few weeks after his birthday and close to the anniversary of his death when the king approaches him while he’s training, telling him how there’s been reports of a strange energy coming from one of the villages that was abandoned during the war. Fearing that it could potentially be a terrorist group from the kingdom they fought, the king asks him to go investigate and take out whatever threat is out there. Eager for a challenge and desperate for a change, Cloud agrees quickly.

He fixes up his motorcycle and makes sure First Tsurugi— which he had recreated a few years ago— is in good shape before he leaves. The drive to the village is exhilarating, wind whipping through his hair as he pushes the gas and goes faster, faster, chasing the thrill of a rare opportunity.

When he reaches the village gates, he rolls to a stop, and kills the motorcycle’s engine. Carefully, he assembles First Tsurugi to completion, then kicks open the gates and strides inside. He searches the village for hours on end, overturning every rock, every piece of furniture in every house, but still comes up with nothing. Save for a few monsters that have claimed the abandoned land as their own, he is faced with no threat.

With a heavy sigh, Cloud shuts the door to the last home and begins his trek back to his bike. He appreciates the mission and all the fighting he did today, but he was hoping for something more challenging, something more fulfilling to come his way. He was hoping for a fight that would make his time worthwhile, a fight that would satisfy him for years to come until once again he found himself bored and useless—

The hairs on the back of his neck stand up suddenly, and Cloud is reaching for First Tsurugi on instinct before he can really process what is happening. Swiftly, he spins around and holds the sword up in the air, stumbling back at the force of another blade clattering against it— at the force of Masamune clattering against it.

Cloud’s breath hitches in his throat when he takes in the sight of the sword that ended his life. He feels the world bottom out from under him when his eyes trail up, up to Masamune’s wielder, and meet glowing green eyes.

It’s not possible. It shouldn’t be possible. Jenova isn’t in this realm, and the technology here isn’t nearly advanced enough for the same level of human experimentation to be performed. It shouldn’t be possible for the monster before him to be here.

He stumbles back, arms falling limp at his sides and First Tsurugi scraping against the ground. “How?” Cloud utters, and it’s all he can bring himself to do. How did he turn into this? How is Jenova here, in this universe?

Sephiroth considers him, gaze sweeping over his body, drinking him in. The longing and possessiveness in it draws Cloud in like a moth to a flame, leaving him attracted to something so dangerous that inevitably would bring upon his end. When he stands there, unmoving and captivated, Sephiroth saunters toward him, Masamune disappearing from his hand. With the same hand, he reaches down and caresses Cloud’s cheek, cradling it with a firmness like he’s scared the other will slip through his hands and disappear a second time.

“Mine,” he purrs.

And Cloud, with no influence or strings attached, responds, “Yours.”

He understands. There is no Jenova here, of course. This is _his_ Sephiroth, and he’s found him, returned to him as always, because they’re fated. Nothing can keep them apart— not even universes, apparently. He understands that he will die, again and again, only to be reincarnated into a new life in a new universe every time until he ends up in Sephiroth’s arms again, whether he is being held in them or dying in them. His soul cannot rest, cannot return to the lifestream, because he does not belong to Gaia— he hasn’t for a long, long time now.

And, to his surprise, he is okay with all of it; he is at peace.

Cloud Strife, prodigious war hero and the kingdom’s greatest knight, never returns from the village. While there is no body found, it is presumed that he died fighting to protect his home and its people from an unknown threat, the only sign of their battle being a single black feather left outside one of the rundown homes.

* * *

Cloud’s fifth life returns Tifa and Zack to him, and he has been eternally grateful for the opportunity to grow up with them and bond with them in a way that his first life never allowed him to.

It’s a late September night when Tifa joins him on the balcony of their shared home, gazing out at the night sky with him.

“I’ve been meaning to ask if you’re doing okay,” she says as she gently places a hand on his shoulder.

Cloud raises an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“Well, it’s just— you seem on edge lately, like you’re expecting something to happen and catch you by surprise.”

Cloud exhales through his nose and shakes his head. “I’m fine, Tifa. Are you sure _you’re_ not on edge because of the recent monster nest found near the border?”

She grins up at him sheepishly and responds, “Well, maybe. I have been worried about it being a problem when we’re away and no one’s here with Denzel, I guess.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m sure it’ll be taken care of soon.” Cloud shoots her a quick, comforting smile before turning back to stare at the moon and returning to his thoughts.

Four weeks have passed since his twenty-seventh birthday. 

_Any day now._

* * *


End file.
